


older than you've ever been

by gothyringwald



Series: S15/future Destiel Fix-Its [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Birthday, Dean Winchester's Birthday, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Everybody Lives, Human Castiel (Supernatural), M/M, Minor Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 06:00:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28951581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gothyringwald/pseuds/gothyringwald
Summary: It’s Dean’s 42nd birthday and he spends it in a way he never thought he would: safe at home, with the people he loves most.Dean huffs. Now that his pulse has slowed, a new warmth spreads through him. Not the warmth of sleep, but something sweeter, tinged with the tiniest speck of regret. This is the first birthday he’s spent with Cas since Dean finally pulled his head out of his ass—after Cas was pulled out of the Empty—and spilled his guts right back the way he should have long ago.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: S15/future Destiel Fix-Its [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2026505
Comments: 24
Kudos: 128





	older than you've ever been

**Author's Note:**

> Just another birthday fic - figured I’d throw my cap in the ring! Happy birthday, Dean!
> 
> (Cas is human and Jack isn't god for...reasons.)

Dean wakes slowly, pulling his blankets tighter around himself. He resists the urge to open his eyes, but he’s too well-rested and they open without his permission. The familiar lines of the room come into focus and he turns to see if Cas is awake, yet, but—

‘Jesus Christ!’ Dean’s heart slams against his ribs. ‘What are you _doing_?’ He blinks at Cas, who is kneeling beside Dean on their bed, just _looking_ at him.

‘It’s your birthday,’ Cas says, as though that explains anything.

‘And you decided to give me the gift of a heart attack?’ Dean pushes himself up with one hand, the other pressed to his chest. A moment later his stomach twists at the way Cas’s face has dropped.

‘I—’ Cas frowns, but it soon gives way to a small, sheepish smile. ‘Sorry. I wanted to make sure I was awake before you. But you know how I am in the mornings, so I had…several cups of coffee.’

Dean rubs his eye with the back of his hand. ‘Several?’

Cas lifts his shoulders.

Dean huffs. Now that his pulse has slowed, a new warmth spreads through him. Not the warmth of sleep, but something sweeter, tinged with the tiniest speck of regret. This is the first birthday he’s spent with Cas since Dean finally pulled his head out of his ass—after Cas was pulled out of the Empty—and spilled his guts right back the way he should have long ago. ‘Thanks,’ he says, not really sure what he’s thanking Cas for, but feeling like he should say it, anyway.

‘I have a present for you.’ Cas half-turns, then moves back, leaning in to press a quick kiss to Dean’s lips. ‘Happy birthday, Dean.’

Before Cas can move again, Dean curls his hand around his bicep, holding him in place. ‘Mm, I like this present,’ he says, and kisses Cas again.

‘That’s— I’m not your present,’ Cas murmurs against Dean’s mouth. His lips part on a sigh; he tastes like coffee. He pulls away saying, ‘Let me get your present,’ as Dean kisses the hinge of his jaw.

‘Kissing first, then present.’ Dean’s lips skate down Cas’s neck, earning him a hitched breath and a shiver. ‘Wait, no, coffee first, then kissing, then presents.’ He starts to push himself up, the need for caffeine _just_ outweighing the need to keep kissing Cas, but Cas pushes him back with a firm hand to his chest. It does…things to Dean, but he only raises a brow, gaze flicking from Cas’s hand, to his face.

Cas presses once more, silently saying _stay_ , and then reaches over to the nightstand for Dean’s favourite mug. The coffee is a little cool, now, but it’ll do the trick and it’s made the way Dean likes it. He sips it as he watches Cas scramble from the bed, shuffling to the dresser, and returning with _three_ packages.

The wrapping is a little lumpy and there’s a lot of tape on them but as Cas sets them in Dean’s lap, heat rises to Dean’s face and a weird wriggly feeling gets going somewhere behind his ribs. ‘Um…’

Cas shifts. ‘I had a little trouble wrapping them.’

‘Yeah.’

‘If there’s too much tape I can get some scissors.’

Dean mutely shakes his head, then realises he’s been staring at the presents in his lap for far too long and picks one up. ‘Nah, it’s fine. Anyway, gotta keep ‘em from escaping, right?’ It’s not even a remotely good joke, but he’s at a loss, right now. Cas bought him presents and he wrapped them and—

When Dean feels his eyes prickle, he finally starts tearing into the wrapping. It takes a little force to get it open, but he manages it, the crinkled plaid paper making way to reveal a tooled leather wallet. Dean turns it over in his hands, running his fingers along the grooves and the raised lines that form a cowboy riding a bronco, arm raised, hat in hand.

‘This is awesome’—Dean smiles up at Cas—‘thanks.’

‘I noticed your wallet was…well, falling apart. And you like cowboys.’

Dean nods. He looks up at Cas, who is still kneeling with his hands resting on his thighs, and reaches out for him. ‘C’mere,’ he says, tugging until Cas is sitting next to him.

‘Open that one next,’ Cas says, pointing to one of the two remaining gifts.

It turns out to be a pocket knife because Dean lost his on their last—as in final—hunt. And then there’s another long, rectangular package. Dean makes a show of lifting it to his ear and shaking it—‘Hm, doesn’t sound like a pony’—before Cas tries to take it from him and open it himself.

‘Hey, this is mine,’ Dean says, and finally tears into it. It’s a long, velvet box with a silver ID bracelet nestled inside it. His name is engraved on the front and, when he lifts it to read the reverse, sees: ‘All my love, Cas.’

‘I wasn’t sure what to have engraved on it, nothing seemed adequate and, honestly, I wasn’t sure what to get you at all and—’

Dean presses a finger to Cas’s lips. ‘It’s awesome. OK?’

Cas nods.

Deans swallows thickly and looks away. His eyes feel hot and damp and his throat is tight and his chest feels full to bursting. He loops the bracelet around his wrist, the metal cool against his pulse, and does the clasp up. He likes the weight of it on his wrist and the thought of Cas’s words pressing against his skin.

‘You like the gifts, then?’

‘ _Yes_.’ Dean nudges Cas’s shoulder. ‘They’re awesome, like I said. Thank you.’

‘You’re welcome.’

Dean smiles and is about to lean in for a kiss when the door bangs open and he’s sent into another round of palpitations.

‘You are up! I thought I heard voices.’ Jack bounds across the room and all but flings himself at Dean, arms around his neck. ‘Happy birthday.’

‘Thanks, buddy,’ Dean says around a smile. He looks at Cas over Jack’s shoulder, then has to look away at the fond look on Cas’s face. With all this positive attention, Dean’s starting to feel a little uncomfortable, but if the furtive looks and hushed conversations between everyone over the past week are anything to go by, there’s more in store. He pats Jack between his shoulder blades and Jack pulls back.

‘Should I get your present, now,’ Jack says, ‘or wait until—’ He cuts himself off, casting a horrified look at Cas.

‘Until you’ve had your breakfast,’ Cas says, all mock casual.

Dean suppresses a snort. They _have_ been planning something.

‘Yes,’ Jack says, too quick, ‘breakfast! Sam and Eileen are making it.’ He pushes himself off the bed, saying, ‘We should go eat it,’ and strides out of the room.

Cas follows and, after he grabs his robe, Dean does too.

The scent of bacon hits Dean before he steps over the threshold and his stomach growls. Sam is at the stove, hunched over a pan, and Eileen is laying the table. She looks up and smiles, opening her mouth but Dean puts a finger over his lips, then points to Sam. So, Eileen signs, ‘Happy birthday,’ and Dean signs back ‘Thank you,’ then moves to stand behind Sam.

‘Morning,’ Dean says, a little too loud.

Sam wheels around, brandishing a spatula. ‘Jesus, Dean, what was that for?’

‘Making sure you’re not losing your touch.’ Dean grins and Sam rolls his eyes. Dean looks around Sam at the pan, eyes narrowing. ‘You better not be tainting my bacon with any of your rabbit food.’

‘I’m not.’ Sam shakes his head, then he smiles and says, ‘Happy birthday, man,’ wrapping Dean in a one-armed hug. He shoves Dean away, waving his spatula. ‘Now go sit down while we finish.’

Dean gives him a little salute and settles in at the table. He jiggles his knee until Cas rests a hand on it. The look he gives Dean is too knowing and Dean lets out a breath. He’s just not used to people doing things like this for him. But soon they’re all sitting at the table, eating his birthday breakfast, and Dean can forget the niggling doubt that he’s not deserving of this as he shovels bacon and eggs into his mouth.

‘Can I give you your present now?’ Jack asks as soon as Dean’s scooped the last mouthful of eggs into his mouth.

Dean swallows the eggs down with some coffee and says, ‘Knock yourself out.’

Jack smiles and goes over to the counter then comes back with a small present, wrapped about as well as the ones Cas gave Dean.

It’s a bolo tie, made from the bottle cap of Dean’s favourite beer. He runs his finger along the crimped edge, lets the straps of leather fall through his fingers.

‘I made it myself,’ Jack says. ‘Do you like it?’

‘Yeah, it’s awesome. Thanks.’ Dean loops it over his head, pulling the slide up, and winks at Jack, who beams at him.

Sam’s present is next: a pair of boxer briefs and some socks. It’s a joke, mostly, a nod to the dismal presents of their past. But when Dean looks up and catches Sam’s eye, he knows it’s sentimental, too. That Sam is saying things might have changed—for the better, so much for the better—but they’re still them in the ways that matter most.

‘Thanks, Sammy,’ he says, letting everything he feels in that moment come through in those three syllables. But before it can turn too schmaltzy he adds, ‘I mean, I needed some new underwear. Cas keeps tearing mine off me.’ He waggles his brows for good measure.

Sam screws his face up and makes a gagging noise. ‘Too much information.’

Eileen laughs.

Cas kicks Dean under the table. ‘ _Dean_.’

‘Ow, what?’ Dean rubs his shin.

Cas raises his brows in Jack’s direction and Dean flushes a little. Dean rubs the back of his neck and shrugs. ‘Sorry,’ he murmurs.

Cas rolls his eyes and Jack seems blissfully unaware, or is doing a good job of pretending.

‘Well,’ Eileen says, cutting through the awkwardness, ‘we also got you this.’ She reaches behind her, bringing out a shiny black and gold gift bag, and handing it over to Dean.

Dean all but hides his face in it, still embarrassed by all of this: the gifts, the breakfast, everything. He reaches in and brings out a bottle of top-shelf. He whistles, low, and says, ‘Thanks.’

Sam shrugs his giant shoulders and Eileen smiles. They say, ‘Happy birthday,’ in unison, then look a little embarrassed about it.

Dean laughs.

The rest of the day goes on as their days have been lately, since they decided to retire from active hunts and sort the bunker out for something closer to its original purpose again. The routine of it all niggles at Dean because he could’ve sworn that the four of them were up to something more than a round of presents and breakfast. Not that he wants, or expects more, but his instincts were screaming that something bigger was on the horizon.

The only difference, today, is Cas spends more of the day by his side than usual, which Dean is definitely not complaining about. Cas suggests they clear out some old filing cabinets, making short work of it, and after lunch, they manage to sneak away for some afternoon delight, which is as much Cas’s idea as it is Dean’s. It leads to another shower, where they go for round two, their skin slick beneath the warm spray of water.

It’s not until the day has worn away, evening settling in, that anything more comes of Dean’s suspicions. He’s making his way to the kitchen, yelling out, ‘I’ll start dinner,’ with Cas frantic two steps behind him and Sam blocking the doorway.

‘Move it or lose it, Sammy, I’m making dinner.’

‘No!’

Dean’s brows raise. He crosses his arms over his chest. It’s only now that he notices the scents of cooking wafting around Sam and into the hallway. ‘Why not?’

‘I— You…’

From behind him, Cas says, ‘Because it’s your birthday.’

‘Doesn’t that mean I get to do what I want?’ Dean turns to look at him. ‘Like make dinner?’

‘We’ve already started,’ Sam says.

‘Fine, I’ll help.’

‘C’mon, man.’

Dean stares Sam down a moment, then cracks a grin. ‘I knew you were up to something else. You’ve all been so squirrelly all week.’

‘No, we haven’t,’ Sam says, too quickly.

Dean snorts.

Sam deflates. ‘Fine. Whatever. Just…go wait in your room.’

‘Am I being grounded?’

‘No, just—’ Sam looks past Dean, imploring.

Cas curls his hand around Dean’s elbow. ‘If you come, now, I’ll perform any sexual favour you wish.’

Sam makes a choked noise and Dean flushes to the roots of his hair, but manages to bark out a laugh at Sam’s expense.

‘Well, that’s an offer I can’t refuse, huh?’ Dean says, and lets Cas steer him back to their room.

Once their door is closed firm, Dean reaches for Cas and says, ‘Now what was that about sexual favours.’

‘I only said that to get you away from the kitchen.’

‘Luring me here under false pretences?’ Dean clucks his tongue. ‘Not very gentlemanly of you, Cas.’ At Cas’s baleful glare, Dean adds, ‘And why did I need to get away from the kitchen?’

‘No reason.’

‘Sure.’ Dean stares at Cas, but when he doesn’t break, he says, ‘C’mon, Cas, the jig is up. What’ve you got planned?’

‘Don’t ruin your surprise, Dean.’

‘Don’t tell me everyone we know is gonna jump out and yell at me, or something.’

Cas falters. ‘No, I…I thought you’d prefer something small, I didn’t think—’

‘Hey, hey, I was kidding.’ Relief floods Dean. The thought of some huge surprise party was, honestly, something he wasn’t keen on. ‘You were right. Small is good. Whatever you guys have planned, it’s going to be awesome, OK?’

‘I just want you to have a good day. You deserve it.’

‘Well, I’ve already had a good day. Anything else is a bonus.’

Cas’s lips twitch. It looks like he might say something, but then there’s a knock at the door.

A few moments later, Jack calls out, ‘Sam said to ask if you’re decent before I come in.’

Dean chuckles and Cas rolls his eyes. ‘Yeah, we’re decent,’ Dean says.

The door opens and Jack waves, saying, ‘I need you to, um, see something. Both of you,’ then turns and heads down the hall.

Cas and Dean follow, and Dean ignores the fluttering in his stomach. It’s not like he’s _nervous_ because there’s nothing to be nervous about. They’re led to a room they cleared out recently but have yet to find a use for; it’s dark as Jack opens the door but as soon as Dean steps inside, Cas flips the light on.

Sam and Eileen, wearing matching party hats, yell out, ‘Surprise!’ Sam blows the party blower he’s holding and Eileen throws her hands in the air in a ‘ta-da’ gesture.

The fluttering in Dean’s stomach dissolves and he barks out a laugh. ‘You’re dorks,’ he says. He looks at Cas and Jack. ‘All of you.’

‘But you love us,’ Eileen says.

‘Yeah, I guess so,’ Dean grumbles, but he’s smiling and lets Eileen wrap him in a hug. He squeezes her tight, then pulls back when he feels her putting something on his head. He reaches up and feels something pointy. One of those damn party hats. She grins up at him and he can’t even pretend to be grumpy about it.

‘Who decorated?’ he asks.

There are streamers everywhere and a mix of themed decorations: cowboys and Scooby-Doo and, inexplicably, dinosaurs. A sheen of glitter coats everything, and Dean remembers a few nights ago when Cas came to bed covered in glitter. It looks, well, like a kid’s party.

‘I did,’ Jack says, ‘but Cas helped me make them.’

‘It looks awesome.’ Dean claps a hand on Jack’s shoulder and squeezes. He looks around, heart stuttering as the four people he loves the most smile back at him, wearing dumb cardboard party hats, and he clears his throat and looks over to the food table instead. There are mini burgers and hot dogs and there’s pie and even a large, lopsided birthday cake with his name on it. His chest squeezes tight. Fuck. ‘So, this is what you’ve been planning all week, huh?’

Sam rolls his eyes. ‘OK, so you figured us out, well done.’

‘I’m a genius, what can I say?’

‘Well, genius, we’ve got another surprise for you.’

Dean frowns. Before he can ask what Sam means, a voice comes from behind him. ‘Hey, old man. Didn’t think I’d miss this, did you?’

Dean turns. Claire is leaning in the doorway, smirking, a gift bag dangling from one finger.

It takes a moment for Dean to react, but then he’s crossing the distance between them, wrapping her in a big hug. ‘Hey, kiddo,’ he says. ‘Good to see you.’

‘Yeah yeah,’ Claire says, ‘I know it’s your birthday, but don’t get all sentimental on me.’ She pulls away, but her eyes are a little glassy, and she’s smiling up at Dean all fond. She clears her throat and thrusts the gift bag at him. ‘Happy birthday.’

‘Thanks.’ There’s a CD in the bag, a band he’s never heard of and suddenly it’s all too much. Distantly, he’s aware of Claire saying she got it because it’s time he updated his music collection. He nods and says, ‘Thanks,’ again and then, ‘I gotta pee,’ and he’s stalking out of the room, heading for the bathroom.

The sink is cool beneath his palms and he runs the water, splashing his face. When he straightens up, it’s to see Cas in the mirror behind him. ‘I know we’re sharing pretty much everything, these days, but bathroom time’s still sacred.’

All Cas has to say is, ‘Dean,’ and Dean is sighing, turning around. He scrubs his hands over his face and says, ‘I know.’

‘What’s wrong?’ Cas steps closer, hand poised as though to touch Dean.

Dean grabs his hand before Cas drops it, squeezing gently. He shakes his head and squeezes his eyes shut. Maybe if he’s not looking at Cas, he can explain. The moments pass and Cas waits for him, patient and kind, and Dean finally manages to say, ‘I didn’t think I’d have this.’

To his credit, Cas doesn’t ask ‘what’, only holds Dean’s hand tighter. ‘It must be…overwhelming,’ he says.

Dean nods once. ‘I guess.’ He clears his throat and opens his eyes. ‘I didn’t think I’d get to 40, let alone 42.’ He shrugs. ‘Shit, I didn’t think I’d make 35 or even 30.’ He lets out a long shuddering breath. There is more he could say, there’s more they both could say, but they don’t need to. He looks at Cas and knows that he gets that, too. He swallows. ‘Hey, I just thought of something.’

‘What?’

‘Well, I’m 42, and that’s the answer to the ultimate question, you think everything will just…’ He waves a hand. ‘Make sense?’ He adds a wink for good measure but Cas only tilts his head.

‘What ultimate question?’

‘You know, life, the universe and everything.’

‘42 isn’t the answer to—’

‘No, stop there.’ Dean holds up a hand. ‘You’re going to read some Douglas Adams, and then we’re having this conversation.’

Cas doesn’t look convinced but he says, ‘OK,’ and then, ‘Are you ready to go back to the party?’ in a way that suggests he’s wondering if Dean is worse off than he’s letting on with all his rambling about 42.

Dean sighs and says, ‘Yeah, come on,’ and leads the way back to his party, making a mental note to dig out his Douglas Adams omnibus later.

No one says anything about how he’d run out minutes ago, but Sam gives him a look that asks if he’s good and Dean gives him a small nod, before he makes his way back to Claire to thank her properly for the gift.

She shrugs it off, then says Jody, Donna, Alex and Kaia all send their best and that she’ll be staying at the bunker for a few days before she heads back home, which pleases Dean. And then she makes him put the new CD on and it’s honestly not that bad. He tells her as much, but has to add, ‘It’s no Zeppelin, though,’ when she looks too smug.

The cake Jack made and decorated with the help of Sam and Eileen—Cas was banned from the kitchen after what they’ve dubbed the nacho disaster—is wheeled out, blazing with candles, and an off-key rendition of ‘Happy birthday’ is sung.

Dean catches Cas’s eye across the shimmer of heat wafting up from the candles and knows he doesn’t need to make a wish as he blows each and every candle out. Everyone claps and cheers and then slices of cake are passed around.

Thankfully, no one asks Dean to make a speech, though as giddy as he’s feeling from the beer and the sugar high and his family around him, he nearly makes one, anyway. Instead, he just raises a toast and mutters a gruff, ‘Thank you,’ before swallowing down his beer.

After a few more beers, he even cajoles Cas into dancing with him, though it’s more swaying on the spot with their arms loosely hanging around each other. It’s nice, though. Corny, but nice. He looks past Cas’s shoulder to where Sam and Eileen are sitting together, looking tired but happy, heads resting together. Claire and Jack, who had been wary of each other for the first hour, are now talking animatedly in a way that Dean will worry about when he’s sober.

And then he looks back to Cas, who is everything Dean never let himself wish for, and who is looking at Dean like he’s the fucking world. It’s almost too much, again, but this time Dean breathes through it and lets his head rest against Cas’s.

‘Happy birthday, Dean,’ Cas says.

‘It’s past midnight. Not my birthday anymore.’

Cas rolls his eyes. ‘Then happy day after your birthday.’ He chews on his lip, head tilted. ‘Did you have a good day?’

‘Yeah’—Dean smiles and pulls Cas even closer—‘I did.’

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! :) the online clock I found tells me it's now officially Dean's birthday in Lebanon haha like Cas, I couldn't decide on a present, so just threw in all my ideas!
> 
> (Please feel free to point out any small typos/spelling errors - I always come back and fix those when I see them, even if it's years later XD)
> 
> Feel free to come find me on Tumblr: [gothyringwald](http://gothyringwald.tumblr.com/) is my main blog these days, but it’s mostly Stranger Things focussed, and [ersatzangel](http://ersatzangel.tumblr.com/) is my ridiculously named SPN blog where I reblog a lot of gifs and sometimes post stories and drawings XD there's a [post for this fic over there](https://ersatzangel.tumblr.com/post/641247189984788480/older-than-youve-ever-been) if you're into reblogging things :) /awkward
> 
> Title from the song ‘Older’ by They Might Be Giants


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